Going Off to War
by monocheshaa
Summary: Peter's running off to help Stark fight Captain America and his small army of vigilantes, and Wade isn't playing when he means that his baby boy shouldn't go fight this time. (Spideypool)
***gasps* I-is this real?! Am I _not_ doing a Danny Phantom fic?! *dies from shock**cries horrendously because I feel like I've let my baby ghost boy down***

 **Yeah, I've been really into the Superfamily/Spideypool fandom lately (thanks Ryan Reynolds), and Civil War got me pumped asf so...:P besides Batman v. Superman, which has _FRICKIN' WONDER WOMAN IN IT_ :D but hopefully you'll enjoy this small headcanon I have, which might be changed after Civil War comes out just because I'm guessing this is why Spider-Man's on Team Iron Man? Don't know tbh.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Cheshire**

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"Petey, I'm really uncomfortable with the idea of lettin' you go run off with Stark and Friends."

Said Peter sighed and finished zipping his backpack. "You know that Tony needs my help," he replied. "I owe him a lot, anyway."

"What, for him payin' your college stuff and givin' checks to May? I could'a done all of that _and_ with the added bonus of free living space!" Wade fumed, and Peter frowned.

"He did all of that _and_ gave me a stable job, Wade. Hell, we wouldn't even _be_ together if it weren't for him helping out with Aunt May and helping your rep."

"So? I give your aunt rides to the grocery store nearly every week! Stark doesn't drive up in a shiny limo to drop off some Vons shit at May's house every day, eh?"

"You're not getting my point! We owe an asston to Tony and I'm gonna pay him back by helping out with this stupid war of his and Steve's, so that's the last of this conversation!" And with that, Peter stormed off in search of extra web capsules (and possibly his car keys).

Wade stopped him in the hallway, slowly wrapping his arms around Peter's torso. He stiffened.

"Still... the boxes are sayin' it's a bad idea, baby boy. I can't-I _won't_ -let that happen to you." Wade's grip slackened slightly. "After, y'know...Mercedes 'n Shiklah...I just don't-"

Peter reached backwards and kissed the merc silent. "Don't worry," he breathed, "I'll be back. Promise."

Wade's lips curved upwards slightly. "Thanks, Arnold," he muttered.

Peter laughed, pocketing the extra capsules before wiggling out of Wade's hold and heading out the door.

"Why do you have to go, baby boy?" Wade pleaded. "We can just, like, be spokesmen for them or somethin'. Make posters and pom poms 'n shit. I'll even switch from Team Cap to Team Iron Man and we'll dress up in matching Iron Man cheerleader outfits. Show up to all the major battles in iron thongs, all that fun stuff. You don't have to go, Petey."

"Why are you so afraid of me leaving?" Peter exploded. "You're never like this-hell, you _encourage_ me to go kick ass. Why is it that when it really matters, you won't let me go?"

"Because Death said you're gonna die!" Wade shouted, slamming his fist into the wall. "Death and all the little fuckin' boxes in my head are telling me that you're gonna die or get hurt or worse! Death and all the little fuckin' boxes said that _something bad's gonna happen to my baby boy_ and I can't stand for that!"

"So you're basing this all on the voices in your head?!" Peter retaliated, gripping the doorknob with white knuckles.

"No! Don't you fucking get it, Peter? Somehow sometime, you're gonna get shot in the head by that Bucktooth or mind-warped by the Scarlet Bitch or whatever her name was and _I'm not gonna be able to protect you!_ I won't be able to swing in and save your beautiful little ass because if you go, I'll have to go too, and I'll be too busy covering someone else's shit instead of shielding _you!"_

Wade searched for any sort of reluctance in Peter's hazel eyes.

"Don't you get it, Petey?" the merc croaked. "I may be buff and tough and kickass and shit...but I'm only one guy. And I know that if you go into that battle over the divorce of those two Boy Scoutin' idiots, nobody's gonna care about you. Nobody except me's gonna care whether you live or die, but I can't afford to lose anyone else because some superpowered dickface didn't throw up a shield before a bullet shot you through the heart."

Peter was quiet for a moment. Then he dropped the backpack and hugged Wade tightly.

"I'm assuming that losing me is worse than losing a part of your Bea Arthur collection," he whispered, and Wade chuckled.

"Yeah, kid. You're the meat in the center of the chimichangeverse."

"Wade, that's...that's kind of disturbing."

"Um, I couldn't continue life without you?"

"...Better."

Peter gave one last, deep kiss to Wade before picking up his backpack and opening the door. "Stay here," he said. "And don't worry. I'll be back before you can say, er..."

"Supercalifragalisticexpialadocius!" Wade added.

"Heheh, yeah. I love you." And with that, Peter pulled down his mask and shot off a string of web to lunge into the air.

"I love you too, Spideykins! Do a superhero landing for me!"

"Okay!"

"Actually, no, don't do a superhero landing! It's bad for the knees!"

By the time Spider-Man could answer, he was too far away.

"Good luck," Wade murmured.

Then he shut the door.

* * *

 **Did I mention how much I love the italic button? I love the italics button.**


End file.
